


Under Heavy Rain

by ScrawnyTreeDemon



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Body Horror, Issues With Gender Identity, Malevolent/Antagonist Shadelord, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Post Godmaster, Post-Canon, Recovery, Reminiscing, Siblings, THK and Hornet settle down in Dirtmouth, just identity issues in general honestly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23501056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrawnyTreeDemon/pseuds/ScrawnyTreeDemon
Summary: After Godmaster, The Hollow Knight is finally free from their centuries long torment. Fleeing from Hornet, they arrive at the Lake of Unn, unsure what to do or where to go now that their purpose is complete.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 126





	1. By The Water's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I've properly written in a long time, and now that the initial post-writing funk has lifted, god does it feel good!

I...I'll admit, I don't know why I was chosen. I didn't know then, as I abandoned my sibling and followed my father into the pale light, and I don't know now, as I stumble to my knees on the edge of a pier overlooking the lake. It feels like someone punched me in the chest and crushed my lungs, I can't take in any air at all. I see my reflection in the clear blue water; to say I looked horrendous would be kind. Crack in my shell going through my right eye, brown, sludgy stains of already rotting Infection soaked into my torn cloak... I lifted it up, and saw numerous deflated boils on my chest the same colour as the stains.

That sickly sweet smell that I've grown so used to is contrasted with the crisp, clean air of Unn's Lake. I raise my head, and welcome the cool breeze wafting from the other end of the shore, so far off I can't see it. But then again, I can't see much anyways. Everything beyond a few feet looks... blurry. It's a wonder I managed to escape.

I think I've lost her; I doubt for long, but long enough for me to somewhat gain my bearings. I stagger up, my head heavy. My eyes suddenly flash with colours and begin to throb. I bear with it as I head inside the nearby shrine. The room held a deep blue glow, nothing at all like the oppressive confines of the Black Egg. In place of heavy grey drapes, plants hung plentiful from the ceiling. A soft light shone from above, bathing the room in its gentle light.

And not a chain in sight.

If I managed to evade Hornet, I was free. No spells to bind me, no kingdom's fate to bear, no blinding light to plague my dreams.

A...And it makes me oddly sick.

What do I do after this? Where do I go? Sure, Hornet hasn't found me yet, but she's had Wyrm knows how long to traverse these labyrinthine lands... not to mention, I don't move like I used to.

As I make my way to a shady corner to rest, my legs ache with every step. My knees are unwieldy, my thighs feel loose, and I'm shaking all the way. How did I even manage to get here?! By all accounts, she should've outpaced me...

Maybe she was waiting outside, watching, seeing if I'd let my guard down. I froze, before kneeling on a mossy patch, and laying on my side, curled up. It felt so good to lie down again! I went limp, all the strength sapped from me. Surely, one would think I'd be watchful at a time like this, wary in very the least! And yet, all I felt was this blissful calm.

My mind was still, silent, for the first time in centuries. Not the stifled silence I'd felt all my life before this, nor the dreadful stillness as I hung in the Black Egg, having been thought to seal away the scourge for good.

This silence was accompanied by the breeze rippling across the water's skin.

...

When I awoke, I made a move to heave myself into a sitting position, only be met with my entire body aching in refusal. Even my arms... arm ached as I made to scratch my neck. I blinked a few times, hoping maybe that would get rid of the painterly smear that tainted my vision. It did not.

Despite every piece of my shell begging I shouldn't, I got up, and paced around the room. I didn't know how long I'd be here, but while I was I wanted to familiarise myself with its details. I felt along the damp, stony walls overgrown with moss and lichen, grasped at the foliage hanging from the ceiling. This place felt nothing like The White Palace, nothing like its smooth, sterile walls, and bright grey light.

I stepped outside, stretching out my arm as I felt the open air. I closed my eyes, and let it wash over me. At this point, I doubted Hornet was watching. Surely, she'd have attacked by now. I opened my eyes and swerved to face the land-end of the pier.

I spoke too soon.

A blurry maroon and white blob blocked my exit. My body seized, cold and stiff. I should've listened to the aching. This was it, I was done for. And all because I stepped outside.

"You seem cheery," Her voice is light and harsh, like flame upon water. "Well rested?"

Silence.

"I've been here all night, keeping a close eye on you. Worry not, I have no plans to kill you."

What?

"Surprised, are you? Granted, I imagine it looked so; however, I only intended to restrain you,"

_Restrain me._ Of what comfort was that?! I shifted uneasily, my chest tight and my throat clenched.

"I feared the prospect of you rampaging through Hallownest, tearing down all in your path- it seems I'm pleasantly mistaken. No telling what ideas The Light could've instilled in you."

_The Light._ The only voice to grace my mind for centuries, ranting and raving, screaming, wailing constantly. A sharp, throbbing pain surged within my shell, searing the crack running through my eye. I let out a hoarse, rattling cry as my hand flew to clutch it. The painterly blur grew stronger as the pain intensified, 'til I could see nothing. By the king, make it stop! Make it stop! Get out of my head! Leave me alone! Please, end it, end it!

And then... I felt a hand brush against my shell. My vision cleared, and I could see her face. Her large, dark eyes reminded me so much of Father's...

I leaned into her palm, clasping it firmly against my shell. The pain... it-it subsided! And this strange, pleasant warmth I thought I'd never feel again took its place. Her thumb gingerly brushed away the rotting residue that'd begun to leak out of my eyes.

"You look awful, let's get you cleaned up."

She took my hand in hers, and led me away from the lake's edge. And as she did, I was reminded of that day... long... long ago...

...

When we arrived at the hot springs, I couldn't help but gasp at its beauty. As smudged as my vision is, the ethereal glow coming off the Soul here is unmissable. I throw myself in, sending waves throughout the pool. I hear Hornet gasp in disbelief, and two unfamiliar voices grumble something unintelligible. I turn around, and see two large dark blue blobs moving to the other side of the spring, still mumbling.

"...Seems you have more energy than I anticipated."

I croon, and immerse myself up to my shoulders in the warm, soothing Soul. Already, I could feel my strength returning. Hornet sits at the edge, watching me intently. She tosses me a silk cloth.

"You should probably take off those rags while you're at it,"

I clutched at my cloak possessive, shrinking back. Take them off?! Leave myself exposed?!

"They reek of rot, and are tattered beyond belief. They look a disgrace on you, Hollow Knight. Hand them to me."

I maintain my stance. What would she do to them?

"...I'll give them back to you when you're done," she sighs.

I take a moment to consider her offer. Slowly, I unclip the pin on my neck, before peeling the cloth from my shell. I gently set it on the shore, giving it a pat before I retreated back into the waters. Cloth in hand, I begin to wash away the years of filth that clung to my body. I suddenly raise my head in alarm as I spot Hornet handling my cloak.

"Worry not, I'll only wash it- your bathe'll be for naught if your robe remains soaked with Infection."

For the rest of my bath, I watched with great unease as Hornet handled my cloak. No telling if she'd toss it away the first chance she got. The Soul lapped around my neck, as I sat squat in it. For a moment, I let my eyes close, keeping my ears primed for any disturbance. The sound of Soul trickling rung through the cavern so that it sounded like it came on all sides. I loved the sound of water. It set me at ease, as I scrubbed the side of my neck.

My eyes flew open as I heard Hornet pull my cloak out of the water. She made way to walk off with it- probably to throw it away! I scrambled out of the spring, and snatched it out of her grasp.

"What was that for?!"

You don't know what this means to me, you can't throw it away, I wanted to say as I clung to it, holding it against my decayed chest.

But all that came out were several horrendous, scratchy, whispery screeches. My throat ached as I spat each one out.

"Do you want it dried or not?!"

I seized up my shoulders, before stretching the cloak across the back of a nearby bench. I sat down with a huff, staring at the ground. Wyrm, it's cold...

I heard the bench creak besides me.

"You've got some dirt on your horns." Her voice was uncharacteristically soft.

I didn't resist as she took the cloth and scrubbed between the notches of my shell, though when she wiped around the crack I winced. She paused, before skimming over it and carrying on.

I'm sorry, I wanted to say, but I could only muster a quiet chitter. She hummed, and caressed my jawline with the cloth. A deep purr rumbled in my chest, as I closed my eyes and leaned against her touch. She reached the back of my shell, scrubbing in slow, circular movements. With her free hand, she scratched underneath my chin- Oh, that felt good. She stifled a giggle, as she set the cloth aside. Our eyes met, and we sat gazing for what felt like hours. A distant memory long forgotten awoke within me, but no image came. All I knew is that we'd been here before, in another place, in a long dead time.

"Your cloak's mostly dry. We should make way to the village on the surface." She suddenly turned away from me, before pulling it off the bench in one fluid motion.

I redressed, relieved to feel cloth clinging to my shell once more. She was by the exit, needle in hand. I gave her a nod, before making haste to follow her smudged, painterly silhouette out of the springs.


	2. Into The Grey Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I'm afraid I'm a day behind schedule! I intent to upload these weekly, and I hoped I'd be able to write multiple so I'd have a backlog in case I wasn't able to write for whatever reason. Anyhow, here it is!

As it turns out, one of the few remaining entrances to the surface was through a narrow well. A strange, pale grey light shone down from above-- and yet I could see no lamp, no Lumaflies hovering around the rim. With ease, Hornet leapt up, giving me time to look about the desolation around me.

I’d ran through here whilst fleeing Hornet-- the orange still glowed then, pulsing everywhere like the organs of a beast. I’d been hit by an engorged Vengefly midway through, splattering its innards all over me. The beast was dead now, her flesh rotting brown and strewn about the cavern walls. About all of Hallownest. And it rotted, the smell unbearable after my wash. My stomach churned, and fire besieged my gullet.  


From above, Hornet let down a rope made of the whitest silk I’d ever seen. It shone like Soul in the grey light, swaying gently as it unravelled. It looked so... fine… could it really bear my weight?   


“This is Weaver Silk of the highest caliber, it’ll support you well.”

But could she? I chirped, my voice quivering, echoing throughout the cavern.

“Worry not, I’ve got it spun around the one of the supports.”

Hesitantly, I reached for the rope. I twirled it around my fingers, dazzled by the intricacy of the weave. I’d seen silk like this at the White Palace, though it mostly made up clothing; my own cloak was crafted from it. I clung on tight, and lifted my head towards the strange grey light, giving Hornet a nod. Slowly but surely, she lifted me up towards the mouth of the well. As my feet parted the ground, a shiver ran through my shell. This reminded me all too well of being suspended in the Black Egg. I clung on tighter, looking eagerly skywards.

I gripped the stone of the well, and tumbled unceremoniously into this strange new world. Disoriented, I shakily set myself into a squat. I couldn’t see much, but there appeared to be numerous houses, albeit a far cry from The Capitol. Standing near what I believed to be a bench, was a bug. I could barely make out his features as he approached us. He was hunched, and dressed in a dark grey cloak. He had a sad, lonesome little face, and two curved horns that resembled my sibling’s.

“Another brought from the Kingdom below, I believe?” His voice was soft, and had a meek, gentle air about it.

“Indeed,” Hornet said, as she helped me to my feet. “We are in need of lodgings, preferably within the village centre.”

He hummed softly. “Ah, I think we might have just the place. Though many have returned, the number pales in comparison to those lost to us.” His voice grew solemn near the end. It seemed that even buried beneath the ground, the Infection devastated the surface.

As he led us through the snug, winding streets of the village, I came to the conclusion that somehow, someway, this land had no ceiling. How such a place could exist was beyond me! I chittered in wonder, as I looked up towards this not-ceilingless.

“My, have they never seen the sky before?” the bug said with a soft chuckle.

The Sky?

I turned to him, and rasped inquisitively.   


“Indeed, they have not,” Hornet began. “I myself had only seen it twice, before I embarked on my long journey beyond this land.”

Beyond Hallownest?! Why, this got stranger, and stranger! Hearing my excited chitter, the bug burst into laughter once more. Hornet gave a small chuckle.

“For one with such few words, they’re very expressive!”

“Indeed,” Hornet said, her voice filled with… pride?

“Ah, by the looks of it, we’ve arrived! Will this do, Miss?”

Before us, stood a two-storey tall house, with a door on the left, a window beside it, and two more windows on the second floor. The exterior was a dark grey, and the door a worn blue. From what I could tell, the windows had planters; however, it seemed that the plants had been either removed, or died from lack of care.

“Oh dear, it seems rather small...” the bug said. “Though, there is a fairly spacious garden in the back.”

Garden? Why, that was perfect! I’d always adored Mother’s; I’d always slipped away into the foliage, left unattended. Those moments, trekking through the underbrush, sticking my shell deep into any flowers I passed as I drank in their scent, those few moments were where I could slacken my shoulders and hunch over, letting the facade fall after eons.

I nodded enthusiastically.

“Are you sure?” the bug inquired.

I nodded again.

“Does hitting your shell against the ceiling not worry you?” Hornet chimed.

I shook my head fervently. Hornet turned to the bug, and gave a nod.

“Many thanks, kind stranger, truly!”

“You may call me Elderbug. If I may, what are your names?”

Hornet perked up, gently swaying her free hand above her chest. “I’m Hornet, and they’re...”

She paused. I think it hit us both. I’d never had a name, only titles; granted, it hadn’t struck me as odd then, seeing as titles alone were commonplace in the Pale Court… but this wasn’t the Pale Court. Infact, the Pale Court no longer existed, with all its members dead and gone. I felt…

“...Hollow.”

_I wasn’t._ And Hallownest paid for it, everyone paid for it! Everyone was dead because of me, _because_ _I was_ _selfish enough to think--_

“We best be getting inside. Thank you again, Elderbug.”

He waved us farewell, as we stepped inside the house, Hornet shutting the door behind us. The first floor comprised of one large room; I could make out that it had a fireplace, a threadbare rug underneath a low table in front of that, a table and four chairs in the far left corner with a window above them, a coat rack by the front door, a closet underneath the stairs leading up, and in the far right, a door leading to what could only be the garden. I had to hunch to fit inside, and even then my horns scraped against the ceiling; not a matter for me, I felt more at ease like this, anyway.

It all looked so pale, bleached, like the life had been sucked out of it.

As I made my way to approach the garden door, Hornet clasped my hand. I turned to face her; a grim, stoic concern lay heavy about her.

“I must go back down into Hallownest to gather supplies. I ask that you wait here; you are not to leave the house, nor open the door to anyone. I suspect a fair few must’ve seen our appearance, a fair few whose intentions remain unknown to me.”

She produced a silk satchel, and handed it to me.

“In there is some food and a small nail. How long I’ll be away, I can’t tell-- might take a day or so; I hope not.”

She cupped my face, and drew me in close, so our shells touched.

“Promise me you’ll take care?”

I crooned, and nuzzled against her. She laughed, before pulling away.

“Very well! If fate is feeling generous, I’ll see you in the evening.”

And with that, she was off, locking the door behind her. With her absent, I headed to the garden door, setting the satchel on the table nearby. I pushed open the door, and lay eyes upon the garden. Indeed, it was spacious, even for one such as myself! It was circular, and a flower-bed bordered by stones ran around the edges, though the shrubs that grew here were dull and leafless. The lawn, unkempt, had grown up to my knees-- no doubt waist-height for Hornet-- and teemed with various weeds.

But in the centre of it all, bordered by a circle of stones, grew a huge, gangly, twisted, shrub. It was leafless like all its compatriots. I’d never seen anything like it before, save for the silhouette of Mother, with all her long, twisting branches and great stature. This shrub grew as tall as the house itself, maybe even taller! I couldn’t help but gaze in awe.

I approached it, my hand outstretched to feel the gnarled bark. It wasn’t damp and mossy like wood in Greenpath, like the walls of the shrine; it was coarse and dry, weathered from exposure to the world above, and covered in small, flat… fungi? I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was oddly satisfying to pick off with the edge of my claw.

I saw that the branches were relatively low, for me at least, and wondered if maybe I could climb it-- get a better idea of the area, even if my eyesight was poor. Granted, it’d gotten marginally better after our trip to the hot springs. I tugged at a branch, and to my surprise I found it didn’t bend. I hopped on, and as I did I grabbed the branch above this one. I found that the looseness in my legs was well suited to twisting myself in and out of the shrub’s crown.

When I reached the top, I situated myself in a prong where two branches diverged, my arm wrapped around one for support, as I leaned forward. As expected, and much to my dismay, everything was a blurry mess; I could barely distinguish one house from another, save for change in colour, but even that blended together. Nonetheless, it seemed that the village was only about half a mile wide on all sides, save for some stray houses that wandered into the plains near the cliffs.

A far cry from the City of Tears.

I squirmed as a chilly breeze howled past. Miserable place, the surface-- no wonder many hadn’t been to it. Everything dry, grey and cold. Hornet mentioned lands beyond here; I wonder, were they anything like Hallownest, or were they muted wastelands? Surely, they couldn’t have been that important if Father never talked about them?

The wind rumbled, and a small drop hit my shell, trickling down my face. A few seconds later, another hit my hand, still wrapped around the back of a branch. I looked up, and saw that The Sky was turning dark. What a strange occurrence.   


I repositioned myself so that my back pressed against the branch I’d been clinging onto, and set my legs on either side of the one adjacent. I lay my hand over my breast, closing my eyes as the rain began to lightly fall. It seemed the rain too, was muted. Just like everything else. How by the King could anyone choose to build a village here? Granted, this place seemed devoid of any aggressors, so maybe safety was a motivator? Maybe this village had been built during or after the fall?

Maybe they came for The Sky?

I strained my ears, listening for any sound of rain I could. Another gust blew, and the rain made this whooshing-noise; it sounded like a heavy sheet being suddenly, and roughly shaken. Never once had I heard it in Hallownest. I… enjoyed it. It felt like the rain had swiftly brought down its blade upon the earth.

Without even knowing, I’d drifted off.

...

Without warning, I was thrown unceremoniously out of my slumber with a hard  _thunk_ \-- and out of the shrub, too! I tumbled out of the canopy, my fall broken by numerous branches, before I hit the ground with a sudden  _crack._   


I heard… yelling… were those… mewls? It was followed by a sharp spit and Hornet… telling it off? I felt a dull pain in my shell, as I heaved myself off the damp ground. As my vision cleared, I saw a tiny bat flitting around the garden, belching sparks as Hornet tried to lasso it. The little thing swerved curiously as it saw me rise, its large red eyes wide in wonder. That proved long enough for Hornet to snatch the creature from out of the air and shove it under her shoulder, with much hissing and spitting.

“Calm yourself, child!” She turned to face me. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, the sleep still hung around me. I’d faced far worse, especially in the White Palace. Father had… interesting ways of training me.

“That was quite the height-- By the King, did you sleep through that torrent?! I bathe you, and you undo all that first chance you get...” she sighed. “Let’s get you dried up. I have much to tell you.”

I follow her inside, and get thrown the same cloth from the springs. I unbutton my cloak, and set it across the back of a chair, before sitting on the floor besides it. Hornet hums, and sets a bag on the table.

“I went down by the Waterways, as I’d been told our sibling fared down there. When I arrived, I found the Void seeped into the walls, sprawling like some unholy vine. As I made my way further down, I was met with a face I never thought I’d see throughout all of Hallownest; Ogrim, donning red, in a pit of sh--”

She paused, and brought her hand up to her shell, suppressing a gag. Ogrim, alive after all these years?! I chittered excitedly. Why, if he was alive, then surely the four others stood a chance-- maybe even Father himself lay somewhere deep in Hallownests passages!

“Indeed, last person I thought to find down there. He’s… let himself go, and I can’t say I fully blame him-- but that is beside the point. He looked shaken, saying a fearsome beast had burst from the body of a bug-- saw it himself, he said-- and that it attempted to bind him with its tendrils. I thanked him, and prepared to continue my trek into the depths. He beseeched me to turn back; I told him to follow his own advice.

”As I moved deeper into the Waterways, the Void grew thicker, and thicker, until I came upon a cavern brimming with refuse, wherein stood a pitch-black colossus. It had horns upon horns, and at least four arms-- it was hard to make out its silhouette, it was as if it sucked up all light around it-- however I couldn’t miss the glare of its four rows of glowing, white eyes…”

She chuckled uneasily.

“I doubt I’ll ever forget it, not even if I wandered into the wastes unmasked. The sheer, overwhelming…  _hunger_ that they held-- it was awe-inspiring, almost. I evaded its sudden grasp, and looked around the room for any of Little Ghost’s belongings--”

Little Ghost?

She stopped herself, before tensing up in… embarrassment? I chirruped, laying my head on the table. She sighed, and a stifled whimper escaped her as she covered her eyes with her hand.

“Nothing but a daft nickname for our sibling. Should’ve known better than to revert to such childish habits...” she snipped, propping herself back up. The child growled impatiently. “Shush, you!”

The child only growled again, and Hornet sighed.

“Found this little one tangled in the beast’s thread-like grasp, along with a number of other charms-- been a handful all the while. Attacks anything he sees,” She gave a small chuckle. “Would you care to pass me that satchel?”

I handed her the satchel she’d given me earlier. She accepted it with a hum, before opening it and pulling out a Vengefly corpse.

“Why, you haven’t had a bite of this, my little knight. Seems you’d been perched up that tree a good while, hm?”

So it was called a tree.

She picked a handful from its underside, and fed it to the little one. The child purred as he hounded down the chunk of meat. He curled up, blinking slowly as Hornet fed him again. By the King, he looked so… perfect! I couldn’t help but reach out to touch him. Startled, he spat a ball of flame, scalding my shell. I drew back sharply with a cry, cradling my hand against my chest.

It burned!  _It burned!_ I could feel her grasp, the blazing light that constantly glared into my eyes, that ran like fire through my veins! I snatched the carcass from Hornet’s hand and brought it up to my mouth, grasping my mandibles around it. I hastily sucked the remnants of Soul out of it, focusing hard on my hand. Immediately, a soothing coolness washed away the searing pain.

“...Ah, it seems he’ll have to get used to you. Are you alright?”

Slowly, I nodded my head.   


“Very well then,” she said. “After I found him, I just barely managed to escape the cavern. On my way back, I found Ogrim still in his chamber-- He’s grown very fond of it, it seems; I can only hope not fond enough to chance Death. I decided to make way to the Queen’s Gardens to enquire the Lady on the whereabouts of our sibling. She recognised the child, telling me our sibling took part in the Nightmare King’s ritual--”

I nearly choked in disbelief. Our sibling, child of the Pale King himself, coercing with such beings?! So that meant the little one curled up half-asleep on the table was… was…  _one of them._ No wonder that flame felt so familiar…

“--I can only assume they’d taken the child with them when they descended into the Waterways. Either, they succumbed to the beast, or...” Hornet stiffened. “They became the beast.”

...How? How could such a thing even be possible?!

“Ogrim said that they began to frequent the tunnels more and more, this strange device in hand,” Hornet picked a brass-coloured instrument from the bag, twirling it between her fingers. The child mewled weakly, and Hornet placed it in his mouth for him to suckle. “I suppose it’d be simpler to assume they summoned it, but I’ve been around that thing-- it  _felt_ like them. I cannot begin to explain how, but I fear whatever they’ve done has given them a desire, an insatiable  _hunger._ ”

A sickening dread washed over me. I thought that Hallownest would finally be free, that my duty to it would end. Even so… and… yet… I… I… felt… th… this...

No. I did not.


	3. Delicate Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, after having two depressive-exhaustive episodes mixed in with me having to go to my stepdad's place and just plain old procrastination, I present to you the third chapter published nearly two months late! Bone app the teeth :)

The carcasses were roasting on the hearth. The Grimmchild lay curled in the flames of its own doing, snoring softly and occasionally twitching. Hornet sat beside me, occasionally getting up to turn the spit. The red glow of the fire clashed with the white light that poured in through the windows.

“You’ll have to learn how to speak, read and write if we’re going to dwell among the people of Dirtmouth,” Hornet said, as she picked a roasted TikTik off the spit. “Grunting can only get you so far in common society.”

I scratched the back of my neck. 

“We’ll start with reading and writing-- I’m sure you’ll master these in little time, having lived in the Pale Court, no doubt picking up on the upper class’s vast vocabulary. You’re clearly well-versed in nail arts, I’d be surprised to find if that wouldn’t assist with wielding a pen.”

Speaking, however… were my kind even built for that? Could we even form a single word after years and years of practise? Let alone after being locked away for centuries on end with no chance to train those chords? I tapped my throat, and rasped out a bark.

“In due time, in due time.” She broke apart the meat, and handed a half to me. “Worry not, I’ll be by your side with every step.”

I nodded, and accepted the meat.

...

We’d been dusting the place, when we heard a soft knock on the door. Hornet set her duster aside and answered it, and none other than Elderbug with a basket brimming with a dozen delicate white flowers was on our doorstep. I peaked my head around the corner, chirping cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Hornet said, straightening up.

“Fine morning, isn’t it? I thought I’d come by and give you some flowers,” He made to hand Hornet the basket, however I reached over to accept it. “Eager, aren’t you?” He chuckled softly. “They’re very fragile, however once planted they grow wonderfully!”

I set them down gingerly by the doorstep. I was giddy at the thought of planting them.

“Thank you, Elderbug.” Hornet gave a grateful nod.

“Why, not at all! I’d been given this by a strange little traveller-- first to grace our village after so long-- and so I’ve made sure to give everyone who settles here some when I can. Say, have you perchance seen a small, childlike figure with a blue robe and horns around? He hasn’t been here in awhile.” He looked gravely concerned.

Hornet stiffened. I felt that same dread sink into my shell. 

Silence.

“Oh.” Elderbug slackened.

“I’m sorry...”

“I suppose it was inevitable, going down into the depths. Two other travellers that came by here shortly after he did, and I’ve yet to see them return.” He shuddered. “No use roaming down there in the deep. Hallownest wants to sleep; that’s what I always say-- Of course, not everyone listens, especially not that mapmaker.”

He gave a lighthearted, if weary chuckle. 

“I best be off. If you need me, I’m usually down by the lamp-post.”

Hornet nodded firmly, and I crooned my farewells. She closed the door, and turned to me.

“Say, how about we plant these?” She picked up the basket, holding it with both hands. They seemed to glow softly, now that I could see them better.

I chirped. Nothing better!

We sat besides the stone-lined flower-bed. I reached for a flower, pulling it a little too jerkily, and a petal fell off. I huffed in dismay, before tenderly planting the flower in the soft, loamy dirt. It felt wonderful to squish, and I suppose even more wonderful to grow in. I don’t know why, but I’d always felt an odd kinship with plants. I suppose we both get treated like mindless organisms that only exist for the use of others. 

“We could dry this,” Hornet held the petal between her fingers. “Did it with any plants I brought back home with me. Nothing much grows down there, it was pleasant to have some greenery, even if it was but a dried husk.”

I… wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I mean, a petal that had fallen away maybe, but picking plants for the sole purpose of drying them so you could always look at them… I don’t know. I held another soft, glowing, _ethereal_ flower in my hand, gently rolling the stem between my fingers.

And then it burst into flames.

I twisted my head around to find the Grimmchild hovering a few feet in the air, raring up another fireball.

“No!” Hornet shouted, dropping her flower to the floor. It burst into petals, and I stared in horror. “Now look what you’ve made me do!”

She stood up, and shoved a finger in the child’s face. He cringed, growling like an uncooperative pet.

“Don’t give me that look-- Inside, now! Go think about what you’ve done!”

And to my surprise, he did just that-- albeit grumbling. She sighed, rubbing her hand against her temple.

“That boy is pushing me to my wit’s end!”

She fell to her knees with a grunt. She stared at the ground long and hard, seething visibly. I reached over to touch her, and she flinched. She snapped to face me, before relaxing as best she could.

“Forgive me; I suppose I’m all too used to being surrounded by foes at every corner...”

I held my hand in the air for a moment, before drawing it back with a nod. She sighed, and tended to the flowers. Wasn’t just me, then. I felt her hand on mine, and turned to face her. She, however, didn’t look. She squeezed it firmly, as she continued with her work. A breeze blew by, filling the silence between us. It was a tender silence; but a silence nonetheless. I wished I could talk to her, but even if I could, would she want my words? She’d changed so much from that playful spitfire that I’d followed so eagerly through the palace halls all… those… years… ago…

...

The cold light shone through the latticed window as soft as ever. The horned child stood before it, its empty gaze upon the white mist that shrouded the palace like a silk curtain. The door creaked open. The child stood still.

“Come, Vessel,” came the meek voice of the handservant.

The child spun on cue to face him. The servant shuddered, before turning heel and walking out the door. The child followed him down a long, narrow hall lined with many windows on one side, each mirrored by a door on the other. The servant’s steps echoed down the hall, while the child’s made nary a sound. Once or twice, the servant had looked back to see if it was still there before quickly turning away, unnerved by its unnaturally fluid, _perfect_ movements.

As they continued on their voyage, they were joined by a pair of Kingsmoulds flanking the child on either side. It resisted the urge to look at them, to gaze beneath those helmets into the emptiness they so shared. And yet, it sensed that the occasional glances they threw at it.

When they finally reached the top, they were met by yet two more Kingsmoulds at the door to the throne-room. When the servant made to enter, the Kingsmoulds barred the entrance with their sickles.

“Excuse me, but His Lordship has summoned me here on important matters--”

“That will not be needed,” one hissed. “Simply leave the Vessel here.”

The servant made to protest, but stopped. He bowed, before turning on his heel and making his way back down the long, winding halls. For a moment, the child stood, surrounded by the royal guard. The door opened, and it was ushered inside by those that’d accompanied it.

The throne-room was bright, almost blindingly so. It was large and dome-shaped with walls of glass, not unlike a greenhouse. The great white drapes were pulled back tightly, allowing the light to fall upon them all-- The King himself most of all. He sat in a tall-backed throne flanked by two sets of spikes on either side; he was a wonder to behold; spiked-crown standing tall; silver robes flowing down the seat like a waterfall; and his head ever so slightly hung. 

He was… awe-inspiring.

However, amongst all the whites and greys came a colour the child had seldom seen-- 

Standing in the light besides The Watcher was a being as small as it was, cloaked in red. And a deep, rich red too! The child couldn’t help but stare at the small, strange being with horns like its own, as it fidgeted impatiently. As it came to stand beside it, the being looked back.

“Hey, what’s your name?” it yelled in a high voice.

“Manners, Hornet, manners,” The Watcher tutted. “Not in your father’s house,”

This… this being was its... sibling? But how? It didn’t recall seeing a red cloak in its birthplace-- nor could it recall a voice high and shrill ringing throughout the Abyss.

“But what’s her name?”

“It has none, my daughter,” The Pale King’s whispers echo throughout the chamber. “It is but a mindless vessel meant to contain the plague, nothing more. Nothing less.”

She was silent. She turned to the child once more, with a strange look it’d occasionally seen thrown its way. And then she turned away, clinging onto Lurien’s robes.

“Watcher, I ask that you take these two with you to your tower, and that you don’t let them out until I tell you so. The Infection grows stronger with every passing day, and already I fear its influence over my servants-- You remember what happened not one day ago, do you not?”

“Indeed I do, my lord.”

“Then you shall understand my hesitance in keeping them within the confines of the palace. To lose the Vessel would be to lose Hallownest itself.”

“And that I agree,” The Watcher stepped forward, gazing up at The King. “But what of you, my liege? Surely, if one man dares to attack the king, many more shall follow!”

“And that, Watcher,” He gave pause, looking at the girl for a moment. “Is why we shall be performing a _public_ execution.”

“My Lord--!”

“It would deter many would-be assasins. Along with that, we shall examine every member of the staff and increase security measures,”

The Kingsmoulds in the back shifted.

“We will increase patrols in and around the palace, and barr anyone from entering save for the most dire of political situations. However, these I fear will draw attention, and that is why I ask that you hide them.”

The Watcher stooped low, craning his neck gracefully.

“It would be my honour.”

The King nodded.

“Dismissed.”

The Watcher clasped the hands of the two children, and was making his way to the door, when--

“One more thing,”

The King had risen from his seat, arm half-outstretched. He stilled, before drawing it back to him.

“Take care, Lurien.”

The Watcher made to speak, but words failed him. After a pause, he settled on a firm nod. The King cocked his head ever so slightly, and looked at the child. Did he mean to tell it something? However, no command came, and they left the room.

...

We lay against the tree. Our work long finished, Hornet read me a book. She spoke slowly, tracing her finger beneath the words as she did.

“...And so he came upon a town, grey and desolate. The streets were empty and not a sound could be heard; the only sign pointing towards anyone living there were the many windows alight with a warm, yellow glow,”

She paused, and turned to me.

“Can you spell ‘grey’?”

I chirped, and drew scraggly letters into the soft dirt with my finger. Hornet laughed, and scratched my chin affirmatively. 

“Very good!”

She returned her gaze to the book.

“His feet clicked on the stones, his nail chimed against his leg, and he hummed a cheery tune. He came upon an inn, indeed one that had not seen business since The Beast arrived, so said the innkeeper’s daughter.”

She paused, and shut the book.

“Can you spell ‘business’?”

My hand hovered over the dirt. I was unsure how and where to start.

“Try breaking it up into smaller fragments; bu-si-ness.”

I scribbled the logographs hastily.

_Bisness._

Hornet stifled a snort. I looked to her sheepishly, shoulders tensed.

“Oh dear-- I do suppose it ought to be spelled like that, but alas, it seems those who built this tongue had little care of rhyme or reason.”

She stood up, her cloak swishing gracefully as she did.

“Think that’ll wrap it up for today, wouldn’t you agree?”

I paused, before nodding. I stood up, and followed her indoors. Hornet grabbed a pair of needles from the bag, before seating herself next to a grumbling Grimmchild.

“You may go,” she said, not even looking up from her needles.

Without a moment’s notice, the child took flight and shot up the stairs. Hornet paid no heed, only summoning a strand of silk and wrapping it around one of the needles. Slowly, I sat beside her. She fell into a rhythm of looping, pulling, summoning more silk, and looping again; it was mesmerising to watch, instilling an odd sense of calm.

As we sat in silence for hours, that sit became a lounge, and that lounge became me lying on my chest, head in Hornet’s lap. She gave me an appreciative pat accompanied by a small chuckle. I pinched at the now few-inch long fabric, chirping inquisitively.

“I’m making a spare cloak, though it’ll be a long time before I ever wear it. Weaving is an arduous, repetitive task, and often you’ll have to unwind hours of work due to a fatal error you failed to catch early on, and when you do you’ll be tempted to throw the project into the very back of a cupboard so that you may never lay eyes upon it again--” She picked up her needles once more. “--But don’t. For all the pain it brings, at the very end you’ll have a garment you can wear forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lurien taking in the royal children was inspired by "A Watcher's Duty," by Nym P. Suedo!  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13210409/1/A-Watcher-s-Duty


	4. Warm Air, Town Square

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet and the Hollow Knight are slowly becoming accustomed to their new home, when a startling revelation occurs at the well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy, sorry for taking so long to upload!!!! I actually had to split this chapter in half at some point(so thankfully I have some material for chapter 5), had to wait for my friend to beta on a few occasions(bless him <3), but finally we're here!  
> So much for weekly uploads, hah...
> 
> Anyhow, hope you lads enjoy!
> 
> CW for THK getting misgendered, as well as some hinting at dysphoria/gender-discomfort.

The weeks flew by like leaves in the wind. The flowers soon blossomed beautifully. I'd sit out in the garden for eons, admiring their gentle glow. Every day, Hornet would sit under the tree with me and read me that book. The words were getting bigger and bigger, and their spellings worse and worse, but despite all that, Hornet was as patient as ever; last thing I'd expected, knowing how she’d been when we were young. Time had changed us both.

I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Nonetheless, we roasted TikTiks, brewed teas; she laughed, I chirped, and Grimmchild nearly burnt the house down. With every day, the sky grew brighter, the air warmer, the Tree even began to sprout leaves! What a wonderful thing, indeed! Mother never had any Trees in her gardens, and what a shame that was. I wonder, why had she never thought to plant any? I scribbled down my thoughts on a piece of silk parchment, and slid it over to Hornet while she was knitting with an inquisitive chirp. For a moment, she tensed. She cocked her head and gingerly plucking it off the ground.

"Why, I suppose there's a number of reasons: For one, I imagine they'd grow too tall for the cavern."

 _PRUNING,_ I scribbled. Elderbug had told me about that, lest the flowers overgrow our garden. Quite frankly, I enjoyed the idea of our little garden covered in a sea of radiant blooms, but Hornet sorely disagreed.

"There's only so much you can prune a tree before it eventually grows into a gnarled, tangled mess, especially during the downfall. Why, when I went to see the Queen, thorns had overrun the whole place-- Coiled around like great spiked worms! The trip was thoroughly nightmarish, and I certainly wouldn't have fared any better had a great branch grown right through a passage!"

 _BUT WHAT IF IT DIDN'T?_ I huffed.

"I still imagine there'd be the issue of resources to content with. Trees, especially great ones such as that in our garden, require a great deal to sustain themselves, a great deal that I wonder if even Unn can provide, especially in her diminished state."

I pondered, tapping the back-end of the pencil incessantly against the parchment.

"And even if all of that was overcome," Her voice softened. "Would it do any good to force such a large thing into a confined space?"

I looked up at her. _CONFINED, HALLOWNEST?_

"Yes, Hallownest is vast, but in an odd way it's stifling. Even I, reared deep within its bowels, yearn for something greater."

She paused her knitting, and gazed out the window.

"And I imagine so do you."

There was a pause, and then Hornet set down her knitting needles.

"We've been running low on food. I think it's high time we went to town; what say you, Hollow Knight?"

...

I could hardly restrain my excitement as we walked out among the streets-- First time I'd been out in two weeks! The crowds, though they paled tremendously in comparison to those seen in the City of Tears, still bustled, with the occasional street merchant hollering out their wares. My vision still failed me, but I could nonetheless appreciate the crescendo of colours. Dirtmouth looked alive, for once; the muted indigos and greys outshone by the greens, reds, yellows, oranges and blues of the marketplace; the the flowers growing in windowboxes, of which I saw as tiny coloured dots.

"Come right up, come get your very own watch! Engineered by the finest artisans in all of Pharloom!"

I perked up, and timidly shuffled over to the stand. Upon closer inspection, the bug running it was a thin, reedy creature with long antennae tied back and styled, and a long probuscus.

"Ah, now there's a fine young man!" I shifted uneasily. "You look like you could do with a watch. Yes, yes, you look quite the adventurer! This shall surely aid you on your travels below the surface, my dear friend!"

I perused the display, struck with awe at all the cogs and gears, all fitted in tiny metal carapaces-- One even looked like a Lumafly! It fluttered its little wings as the hand ticked. The merchant, seeing my intrigue, picked up the watch and thrust it into my hand.

"Why, friend! Take it, it's all yours for the price of--"

"Vessel!"

I turned to face a livid Hornet.

"Come away now!"

She dragged me by my cloak. Frantically, I tossed the watch back to the keeper. I winced when I heard a metallic clink. Hornet huffed, marching fervently.

"You musn't go off like that! Large and imposing though you are, you're still recovering! You could get lost! And not to mention, that man could've very been a scammer--" She went on, and on, and on, and at some point I simply phased out, nodding mechanically whenever needed. "...What if you went down an alleyway, and a cartel..."

"...And what would you do then?..."

Mhm.

"...Did you run off like... around the... Palace...?"

I huffed.

Soon, we arrived at what I could only assume was the grocer's. Posters plastered the walls, and among them was a sign that read "We're Hiring!".

"...Honestly, it's a wonder you didn't you fall into the buzzsaws!"

And with her tirade over, she turned to face the shopkeeper. The stalls were filled with a diverse assortment of fruits, roots, and nuts; some of which held a striking resemblence to the ones I'd seen prepared in the White Palace. A few stalls down, someone was roasting them over a grill-- The smell instantly sent me back. It lacked the regal flare from my youth, but that mattered little. Ah, how I'd yearned to have some! As Hornet filled her satchel, I tentitively pointed to a long, thick pale root. The grocer, a portly, jovial-looking bug, laughed.

"He's very timid for his size, isn't he?"

A pit welled in my chest. Why did being called... Nevermind.

"You'd think that, had you never beheld them with a blade," Hornet deadpanned.

"Oh! So he's a fighter, is he?"

"A lethal one, too." Hornet's tone was icy. The grocer grew uneasy behind his smile. I stood frozen.

Hornet hastily stuffed the root in her bag. "That'll be all."

"Wonderful! That'll be 600 geo." He leaned forward, clasping his hands.

We paid up, and Hornet turned to me.

"The local cartographers started selling spider-silk parchment, which we're beginning to run short of. Think we might stop there?"

I nodded with a hum-- Though I doubt the townsfolk heard it as such.

We walked out to the edge of town. The houses grew smaller here, and farther apart, too. It wasn't long until the open plains loomed into sight, and stark against them stood what I could only assume to be the well. Hornet sat me down on the bench, thrusting the bag into my hold.

"You stay out here, don't move an _inch._ " I nodded hastily, and she walked off.

Right outside the store, a bug was droning incessantly; at first I'd believed him to be yet another salesman, but with nothing better to do, I listened and found the content of his words to be... grandiose? Inflated? Possibly insecure? It was hard to put into words, really, especially with how brazen it was, yelling his self-appraisal out for all to hear. I turned in his direction, and saw a strange creature with lopsided horns-- Had I not been one myself, I would've easily mistaken him for a vessel-- From this angle, in the very least. I also saw that he had a subject, though I couldn't make much of them other than their colour. Indigo; blending in easily with the village; unnoticeable.

It was then echoed hollering came from the well. We all turned our heads in unison, even the arrogant bug falling silent, as three figures clambered out of the well. One was hoisted by the others, another of which was clearly limping.

"Help, somebody help!"

The people poured out of their houses to scope the commotion, though most hung back. Something thick, black hung from the travellers-- I could _smell_ it, for I knew it better than I did my own mind. Void. I could feel it in their veins, pulsating throughout their bodies. Elderbug trodded over to them, grabbing the edges of his cloak as he did.

"Whatever is the matter?"

"We've been attacked!" Came the second. "B-Big..big black beast... caverns... We... Marlot..."

She fell into a wheezing fit, coughing up Void. The onlookers gasped in horror. Resist... _resist... don't r..._

"Someone find this girl a healer!" Elderbug said. He turned back to the first bug. "Tell me, young man, to the best of your recollection, what happened down there?"

The bug drew a deep breath, letting go of his comrade as a group of villagers came to take them away.

"We'd been on this trip, sightseeing all around Hallownest, when-- When one of my companions suggested we head for the City of Tears-- When we got there, and...and having wandered around for a few hours, you know, we turned a corner, and at the, the, the end of that street was this b-black s-substance-- And Marlot, Marlot went to investigate it-- And--" He choked. Elderbug patted him on the arm. "...We, we got attacked. Three of us managed to escape, but only by the tips of our antennae."

Silence. Still, stifling silence, like stale air.

"This is the doing of the newcomers!"

I turned to find the arrogant bug _pointing his weapon at me_ from a distance. Hornet had just managed to jostle her way to the front of the crowd, arms filled with paper.

"None of this had happened before they came!"

Murmurs ran through the crowd; many scoffed, and others huffed; and yet, others still hummed in agreement. A pit welled in my chest. The crowd suddenly felt not as a comforting presence, but as a potential mob. I remembered well Father's talk of such things-- I remembered greater yet how it felt to be in the midst of one, during the height of the Infection. Quashed or not, that rebellion had served as an omen of things to come.

"I say we throw them back down the well! Or better yet," He made a jabbing motion at me. "have a duel!"

"Don't you dare speak of us with such disrespect!" Hornet growled, stepping out to confront him.

I reached for her, and at the same time the bug's companion reached for him, standing between him and Hornet.

"Ma'am, I'm sure he meant nothing by--"

"Do you have any idea what we have done for your kind?!" Hornet continued, ignoring her. "What _they_ have done for your kind?!" Hornet motioned to me; all eyes followed suit.

I sat, still, stiff; limbs pinned tight against my shell. I... What was I supposed to do? What could I do? I scanned the crowd, eyes dragging slowly over each and every single staring face, all simultaneously dreamlike and undeniably real-- When I caught her gaze. Black, beady eyes. She looked clearer than anything else I'd experienced so far-- I could see every pore, every shaky movement, every shadow and highlight that hit her form-- And she was all the more unreal for it. She was just as transfixed as I was; looking at me like some object from a long-forgotten past, one she desperately yearned to remember. Everything slowed down to a crawl, and in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only me and her.

"Have you all forgotten where your ancestors went for worship?" Hornet's sharp voice shattered the moment, bringing me back to reality. "That which whom they revered? Does it pain yourselves to grant them a mere pittance of decency? For shame!"

No reply. And with that, Hornet straightened up, and walked off. I sat there, stunned.

"Come along!" she called.

I got up, and paced slowly, gingerly. As I followed her, the crowd parted for me. I towered high above them them all; tall enough for all to see.

For all to look upon, and despair.

...

They waded through the flooded pavement, as the rain fell down like great, sorrowful tears upon Hallownest's crown-jewel. Thick cloaks with heavy hoods had been wrapped around the Watcher's charges. The girl had initially complained, back at the palace, however an explanation from the Watcher had, if not soothed her, than subdued her. The vessel had remained still. Silent. Obedient. It followed Lurien, flanked by knights on either side, in the city's twilit street, steering clear of those few out. Before long, a grand tower loomed out amongst the downpour. The vessel's eyes didn't linger. Soon enough, they were inside. Their footsteps echoed across the empty hallway; Lurien tensed, ushering them into an elevator. The rain pounded against its glass walls. On the long trip up, the girl pulled off her hood, shaking her head. Lurien began to remark.

"What? We're inside now," she said, a mixture of defiance and bewilderment.

"I'd rather you wait, princess."

She huffed, but made no move to draw back her hood. The Watcher made none in her stead. The bell rang, and they stepped off. A handservant promptly scurried over to greet them-- Albeit surprised.

"How goes it, my lord?" They unpinned the heavy, wet shawl from Lurien's shoulders. They peered over at the child and vessel.

"I can't say it wasn't forseen. The King has asked me to harbour his..." He looked at the pair, clicking his mandibles as he thought of a word. "...brood."

"The King--? Brood?" They gazed in astonishment. "I'd never--"

"Can I take off my cloak, _now?_ " The girl looked exasperated.

" _Now_ you may-- Renus, I'll explain later. All you need to know now is that--"

"I'm Hornet, princess of Deepnest!" The retainer's eyes only widened further.

"--Is that there has been an attempt on the King's life, and he doesn't feel safe boarding them at the Palace."

The vessel made no move to undress itself. The Watcher's quarters weren't large by any means, and the clutter only served to compound that. Tall, rusting candlelabras crammed into every corner; great canvases stuffed to one side, the shelf holding them stained with paint; a floor that clearly hadn't been sweeped. The retainer pursed their jaw, and nodded.

"Forgive us H-- _your highness --_ For the state of this place. I wasn't under the impression we'd be having visitors." They clasped their hands together, eyeing the room with unease.

Hornet took one look around the room, and said, "Nah. 'S good," before scampering off onto the couch.

The retainer turned to the vessel, whose stillness lended them resemblance to said candlelabras. "May I take off your coat, or...?"

"It has no mind," Lurien called from the closet, rummaging. "You'll have to command it."

"...Oh." They looked the vessel up and down, the colour draining from their shell. "Undress yourself-- If you please!"

The vessel obeyed the command as soon as it was ushered. The cloth hung in their hand, trailing onto the floor. With unease, the retainer unfurled its grip, and hung it on the coatrack. Lurien stumbled out of the closet, bundles of bedding under each his arms. He muttered a curse under his breath. Hornet leaned over the arm of the couch to peer at them.

"I must apologise for the lack of sleeping arrangements, princess. Feel free to use my bed, on the condition that you don't tear the bedding to shreds. I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."

"But my lord, what of the vessel?"

Lurien set down the bedding. "To my knowledge, it doesn't sleep-- However, if need be, it can join the princess."

"I want her to join me!" She jumped up, toppling over and landing on the folded sheets and pillows. "We could have pillowfights, and tell stories-- Well, we could if she could speak--"

"Princess, it has no mind."

Indeed.

The girl gave a frustrated pause, and said, "But how do you know?"

"The King said it himself." Lurien let out an equally fristrated sigh. "It was made to seal the plague, nothing more."

"But what if he's wrong--?"

" _Hornet!_ "

She flinched. Her little fists clung onto the duvet, and she hung her head. Lurien looked away.

"I'll go get the tea." They ran off into the kitchen.

Silence.

"I'm going to bed," Hornet said.

Lurien could only muster a sigh, before waving her away.

"Sleep well," he called.

She didn't answer, before shutting the bedroom door. The retainer returned with a tea-tray.

"Thank you, Anthrenus. If you don't mind, I'll be having it at the scope."

"Anything you please, my lord."

Lurien got up, and signalled the vessel to follow him. He seated himself at a comically large telescope walled by only glass; the rain so dense it slid down in one, flowing mass. The vessel stared at it. The rhythmatic pounding gave it the urge to loosen, as if the rain itself commanded it. A heavy, tranquil feeling fell over the room, and one by one, the lights went out.

"I'll be off for tonight. Don't stay up too late!"

Lurien chuckled. "Can't make any promises, but I'll try." He turned around. "Good night, Renus."

"Good night, Lurien."

The door shut, and Lurien resumed his work. A single candle his only light, and under its glow he scrawled various symbols that the vessel ~~felt~~ suspected it couldn't decipher even if it'd been given the knowledge to. The rain droned on, and on, and on, as the evening crawled along. It was occasionally punctuated by the tapping of antsy claws on the telescope, shuffled papers, and exhasperated sighs. After awhile, the expectation of orders fell away, and vessel stared mindlessly at the downpour. Unnoticed, the Watcher had gotten up, and went to bed.

Everything faded away, leaving the vessel lost under heavy rain.

...

The way back felt alot longer than it should've. My head hung low, and I stared at the pavement. Hornet peered over her shoulder every now and then, filling me with shame. I couldn't even be trusted to go out. When we got to the door, she handed me the paper. Our lock was a wretched thing, prone to jamming, and thus oft required both hands to undo. After half a minute of fiddling and spewing improper epithets that'd no doubt send Mother into a cold sweat, Hornet unlocked it. I set the bag on the table, and hastily pulled out a sheet of silk paper.

_I'M REALLY SORRY FOR RUNNING OFF._

That didn't even begin to scratch the surface.

I slid it towards her, head hung. She gave it a cursory glance, and chuckled.

"All's well, Hollow Knight. I feared for you, that is all." She cupped my shell, and drew me down for a nibble on the cheek. Father-- _The King,_ had done that once... hadn't he? Maybe I'd dreamed it up-- It was hard to discern dreams and reality in the long, rigid, monotonous halls of the White Palace.

"It's the least of my concerns, after the incident," Her voice grew low. "All I ask is that you take great care."

And with that, we collapsed into an embrace.

"All will be fine, dear Vessel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The interactions between Lurien and his retainer are largely based off those in constellraetion's fic Intransigent-- I was initially going to give the retainer the same name, however I had no way of directly asking for permission, as their their Tumblr is either renamed or deleted.
> 
> Their name is based off of the Carpet Beetle, Anthrenus verbasci :)))
> 
> Here's the fic, if you want it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17275643/chapters/40627472 However, I must warn you it touches upon very, very dark themes such as sexual assault(none of it is explicitly shown), so I wouldn't recommend it if that's out of your comfort zone.


	5. All Will Be Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-read by the lovely Asteria111 on Tumblr! Big, big thanks to them, especially with my impromptu-hiatus.
> 
> This chapter, if we're going off of the final edit Asteria made, was finished last month. Unforunately, my mental health hasn't been in the best state, and thus writing my fic all but slipped my mind. So much for the weekly updates I'd intended at the beginning, ahhhh...

But it wasn't.

From that day on, Hornet grew ever more restless. She fidgeted endlessly and tended to the house avidly. She began to withdraw, spending more and more time perched on top of the Tree knitting; and when we did spend time together, she hardly ever met my gaze. Even in sleep, she didn't let down her guard.

Even now, as I came creaking up the dark, rotten staircase, she swerved in alarm from the lamplit windowsill to face me.

“I see you are undressed. Did you wash your cloak like I asked you to?” 

I nodded fervently.

“With the herbs?”

I raised my head to nod again but paused. Did I? Hornet sighed, muttering something under her breath.

“I suppose you’ll have to redo it, won’t you? And do warm up the water-- The Grimmchild should still be by the hearth.”

I hurry back down the stairs-- _By The LIGHT’S A--!_

Hissing with pain, I stumble onto the living room floor, having hit my horns on the ceiling beams. In the dark, two fiery red eyes light up. The Grimmchild swooped near me, keeping a safe distance. It gave a small trill of concern. Huffing, I chirped back, waving my hand assuringly. 

Picking myself back up, I snag my wet cloak from the coat rack and rip the herbs out of the satchel, before setting the pot above the fire. When the pot warmed, I threw in the herbs, waited a few more minutes, and pulled it from the flame.

Grabbing my cloak, I drench it in the water despite the steam’s warning. This was nothing like the angry, dancing heat I’d bore from her; I could take this. I closed my eyes, rubbing, pulling and squeezing the fabric. The water burned between the cracks in my shell when I flexed my fingers or twisted my wrist, but I almost welcomed it. This, this was far better than the fervent bite of a Dream-goddess long gone--

And yet, sitting but an arm’s reach away with narrowed eyes, was the latest iteration of her kinsman. How exactly he shared blood with her, I either didn’t remember or hadn't known at all, knowing Father’s… reluctance with mentioning other Higher Beings. 

Maybe he didn’t even know himself.

I cringed. Foolish, foolish to think. Of course, Father would've known; the only thing that bothered him more than the existence of other Higher Beings was not knowing anything about them. Yes, Father wrote down anything and everything in the privacy of his own quarters. I'd been there plenty of times, standing idly by his side as he twitched in his seat, only lifting the pen to twist his wrist so it clicked, unaware of my attentive gaze. We weren't completely unlike then, I think, clicking my wrist as I wring the cloth dry.

I hang it before creeping up the stairs, taking care to bow my head. Hornet was seated on the windowsill, fidgeting with the lace curtains. In the corner, a large nest of old sheets and pillows sits, raised a foot off the ground by a platform built into the floor. Hornet nearly had a fit when we'd found it, appalled by the thick layer of dust that smothered the fabric. She'd promptly dropped her feather duster, and hauled everything downstairs for a good wash.

"Vessel," I winced. She took a deep breath. "I will have to journey soon. I fear for Hallownest's ruin at the maw of our sibling-- Wyrm knows what horrors they've wrought."

She clutched the curtain, fist trembling.

"I-I'm not sure when, or if I'll return."

I _froze._

"I've grown content. I have forgone my duty so that I may live in this small, dilapidated town, shutting the world outside all while the Void threatens to devour us all-- And look where that's gotten us!"

And again, that _feeling._ I pushed it as far back as possible, pushing it into _her_ place. Hornet turned to face me, with a look that reminded me all too much of _his._ I shuddered.

"I'd say you know enough to communicate with the townsfolk. You have good reading comprehension, your handwriting is legible and you're aware of social etiquette, if of the more formal variety. My only regret would be not introducing you to them sooner; indeed, it'd have been easier for them to grow accustomed to you with my presence-- We have time yet, though. I don't plan on leaving you unprepared."

_Please, please no. Don't leave me here. I love you, I love you so much, please don't go. A scream bubbled in my throat, Void gurgling restlessly, waiting for release. It went cold, running up my back along my central nerves and into my shell. It threatened to spill, to leak. It ran into my arm, urging it to lunge forward and take her, hold her, cling to her, beg her to stay--_

Instead, I stood there. After a pause, I nodded, slow and smooth. Mechanical.

"Very well," Her shoulders slumped and she released the curtain.

We clambered into the nest, just like we did every night before this. Those days, years hanging in the dark seemed like a far-gone dream. I had to curl up to fit in it, and in the gap between my chest and knees, Hornet lay, snug against my shell. Had it been any other night, we would've clung close till we fell asleep; but this wasn't any other night. I buried my head, blocking out all sight of her.

Even now, the sheets smelled of chamomile.

 _I should've run._ This was far worse than getting speared-- At least that was quick. I wouldn't have to lie awake for hours on end, desperately holding back the Void from pouring out of my eyes. _No,_ there would be no Void to stifle. Father was right-- Maybe not in preventing the Infection-- But he was right. No mind to think, no will to break...

No voice to cry suffering.

"...Vessel?"

I remained silent. Even if I could speak, what would I say? 'Don't go'? That would be selfish; Hornet had all the right to leave, especially in such dire circumstances. I'd given her enough trouble already. I'd given everyone enough trouble.

Hallownest needed her.

"I'll have to leave Grimmchild with you. I'm none too keen on taking him into Hallownest, not while the beast lives. Do you feel like you can manage that?"

I nodded. She hummed. Silence.

...

In the days following, we prepared. We stocked up on food and cleaned the house as best we could. Hornet took to teaching me all she could, writing down much of it down in a small makeshift notebook crafted by sewing sheets of spider-silk parchment together. Cooking, cleaning, first aid, and more. Her patience waned, and so when I slipped(which I often did), she'd sigh sharply, before drawing out her corrections.

We soon came to the conclusion that in order to support Grimmchild and me, I was to seek employment. The grocer's was as good a place to start as any. It'd be simple work: hauling around inventory, upkeeping the building when needed, occasionally warding off thieves; sentient and not. He'd been delighted when I(alone) came down to the business with a slip of paper in hand explaining my intent. Despite my numerous, _numerous_ flaws, he hired me.

We spent more time outdoors, getting me accustomed to the town's layout, and its people. Whispers hung in the air, eyes trailed us, and all the while I held my head high. They had some familiarity with Hornet, for she'd served as the town's protector, even if most of her focus was directed at Hallownest. Nonetheless, they tensed when she spoke with that harsh accent of hers; winced when her fangs jutted out a little too far; stared when a second pair of arms shifted beneath her cloak. Despite her decorum and her regal grace, when they looked at her they thought only of dark corners and tight, web-choked tunnels.

They looked at me, too, with stunned reverence. They stammered out customary greetings, only to be met with silence. I'd pull out my pad, and hastily scrawl out a reply. Unfortunately, more than once my poor wording roused the offense of my companion, and Hornet had to step in and explain my intent. From then on, Hornet would read over my replies, and let me know whether it was appropriate or not. I imagine it was jarring to see the fabled Hollow Knight escorted like a child by a spiderling. I dampened many expectations, I imagine-- My own included.

I felt pathetic. If the King could see, I'm sure he'd disown me. Hornet had spent her life running around, tending to all but herself as soon as she could walk-- And I'd exacerbated that. She'd been burdened. Little wonder she sought solitude, where possible.

One day, Hornet sent me to buy more paper. We were in no need of it, but sensing her unease, I went. Scampering down to the town's edge, the world whizzed by in colourful streaks. I wished that my sight would recover: it was disorienting. It wasn't long at all until I reached the well, skidding to a halt. The familiar babbling of the bug, Zote, met my senses. I wished it didn't. The girl was there, too. Despite my vision, I could make out her turning to me. I hurried inside, oddly warm.

The shopkeeper was a slender, apathetic woman named Iselda. She oft languished over the front desk, while her husband, the mapmaker, slept in his offtime. I was greeted with the familiar 'Bapanada,' followed by a sigh. I felt an odd pity for her. Making my order, I slipped out of the store, only to feel the girl's eyes on me. I turned around, clicking my mandibles, raising myself to full height. Should... I go speak to her? Slowly, she got up. We stood some metres apart. I must've heard her name, somewhere, even if offhandedly.

"Is it okay if I, I--" She swallowed. "Would you mind if I walked... home, with you?"

Her voice was timid, tender. A trembling little thing, easily swept by the wind. I chuffed. She quivered. I stopped. A sickening sensation crawled up my shell. I sounded like a beast, didn't I? A huge, uncouth, barbaric brute. Looked like one, too-- And yet, she came to my side. We walked up the path, together. Zote still rambled on, long after she'd left. I looked at her. She was clearer, now, but hardly as sharp as I'd seen her during the incident.

"I'm- I'm Bretta," she said. Almost immediately, she recoiled.

I hadn't heard that name before.

"...What's your name?"

I stopped and shook my head.

"W-Would you rather not tell?"

I shook even harder.

"You... don't have one?"

A moment passed. I nodded.

"Ah. That's a shame-- really. 'M sure if you had one, it'd be, it'd be--" She caught herself trailing. "Sorry!"

I shook my head, gently. We'd come to the fountain in the town square. We sat there, a little too far apart. The water trickled instead of rushed, at uneven intervals. This unpleasant sound was what filled our silence.

"Y...You're the Hollow Knight, aren't you?"

I pulled out my sketchpad. I wanted to speak with her, even if only just.

_YES._

She looked it over. Suddenly gripped with a sense of shame, I scrawled:

_FORGIVE MY HANDWRITING, I ONLY LEARNED TO WRITE RECENTLY._

That only looked worse! Surely, she'd think me uneducated and never wish to speak with me again. She motioned for the pen. I handed it to her. She began to write, in a neat, curling script.

_What kind of things do you like?_

As soon as she handed me back the stylus, I scrawled hastily.

 _CLIMBING TREES, FLOWERS, GARDENING, READING, HELPING HORNET, THE RAIN--_ I was going to add something else. Instead, I added: _WHAT OF YOU?_

She looked at it and smiled.

 _I like the rain, too._ She continued. _I'd been to the City of Tears when I'd gotten lost in Hallownest. It's so heavy, that when you're looking out from a window, it pours down in one mass-- You never get that up here._

_I WAS RAISED THERE FOR A TIME. I'D STARE AT IT FOR HOURS LONG AFTER EVERYONE ELSE WENT TO BED. IT'S SOOTHING. I MISS IT._

_Were you?_

_FORGIVE ME, I DON'T QUITE UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS._

_Sorry! It was a rhetorical question. What was it like, being raised there?_

Should I tell her? I clicked my wrist three times, gnawing at the end of the stylus.

"You don't have to tell me! Not, not if you don't want to."

 _IT WAS NICE._ Let's leave it at that.

I stood up and jerkily motioned her to follow. We walked home. The trip was short, and before long the door wandered into sight. I knocked, and within seconds Hornet answered.

"What took y-- Oh, hello!" Bretta gave a meek wave. "Sibling, have you made a friend?"

I looked to Bretta, before sheepishly nodding. Hornet cocked her head.

"Very well then! Why don't you two come inside?"

"Ahh-- I'm, I'm sorry, Missus...?"

"Never mind that, just call me Hornet."

"--Hornet. I have some chores I've been putting off-- But I'd, I'd have loved to stay, really."

Hornet hummed. "All's well. I bid you well on your journey, Miss."

Bretta nodded, before turning to me.

"Th-Thank you for spending time with me. I hope we can do it again-- If you want to, that is."

Before I could respond, she scampered off. I slumped, before following Hornet inside. That night, I asked Hornet if she could teach me more punctuation. She said there wasn't time.

...

The days flew by. They flew far away.

We were around the fire eating our TikTiks one last time. She didn't laugh. I didn't chirp. We brewed no teas. The sun shone through the window bright as ever, but it might have been the dead of night. Grimmchild rose from the ashes, yawning sleepily. It chirped and fluttered over to Hornet. She cocked her head amiably, and scratched the child's chin.

"Ah, dear little thing! Surely, I shall miss you."

It hung itself on her shoulders. It purred and nibbled lovingly at her shell.

"Making amends with me before I go, are you, Grimmchild?" She giggled-- And to think I may never hear it again. She turned to me, having finished the last of my meal. "Is all in order?"

I nodded. Rising in a fluid motion, I made to head for the door, when she tugged my cloak.

"I...I have something to show you."

She led me to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled out a bundle. A cloak, I realised. She unfolded it, holding it open so I may look upon it. It shone like a river of Soul _._ Pure, white Weaversilk, soft as down between my fingers as I grabbed a fistful of it. When the light hit the cloak just right, it revealed numerous ornate patterns, reminiscent of the foliage in Mother's gardens. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. I looked up at her, completely at a loss of what to do.

_Th...th...nk...y..._

Hornet's eyes widened.

"You... you spoke!" She hastily made to regain her composure. "Not aloud, but I felt it, at the edge of my psyche. Those whispers-- just like The Ki..." she trailed off.

I blinked at her.

"You're a wonder, you know that?"

Silence. She made to speak but stilled. I tried to clip on the cloak, but she brushed my hand away, doing it for me instead. Her knuckles grazed against my shell. I'd miss this. I missed it already. We walked out the door. She handed me the keys. I turned them over in my hand, as we made our way down the long, long cobbled road. I'd be living alone, now. The idea set a pit in my stomach. I pushed it away, looking ahead, but not at her. Never at her. We'd walked down this path many times in our few months here, but it stretched on, now. It was like Time itself didn't know whether to cling to the moment or move on. And yet, despite all of that, the well floated into view too soon, before I could sort all my thoughts, my feelings, my slithering insides.

She stepped forward. For a moment my fingers grazed her cloak. This was childish. Here I was, a year or so older than her, and I was clinging to her like she was my _mother_. Oh Wyrm, she wasn't even done growing yet-- I could see that, now. And here she was, ready to throw herself into Hallownest's maw.

I couldn't.

I grabbed her, lifting her high into my embrace, holding her tight to my chest as she squirmed.

"Vessel, Vessel, Vessel--"

I tucked her head under my chin, and keeled over her. She made to cup my face, but I brushed her hands away, cupping her chin instead. I tilted it, so our eyes met. A low, rumbling croon issued from my chest. It rolled again, and again, and again with every caress of her shell. She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch.

"I'm sorry..." She choked. "I...I.. didn't wish for us to part like this-- I was hoping you'd, you'd..." A tear formed along the edge of her socket.

She brushed it away. Her gaze had fallen.

"A parting this sweet would've pained us both. I was wrong in thinking I could prevent it." She breathed. I clutched her hand. "...I've been meaning to ask you something for quite some time, now, but I never got the chance."

A moment passed.

"Vessel, what is your name?"

My breath hitched. The thought had occurred to me time and time again, but I... I hadn't taken the time to consider it. I suppose I thought it'd come along. I shook my head.

"Do you want one?"

I nodded.

"--I suppose there's another question I ought to ask you," She flexed her fingers. "How, how do you feel?"

I cocked my head.

"Like, gender." She looked at me. "Many, it seems, have made the assumption that you are a man-- And it looks to bother you. What do you prefer?"

I thought and pulled out my pad. I flicked the pen again and again, writing nothing. My wrist clicked. It began to rain. What options did I even have? Everything seemed to merge together, here and now, as the rain picked up its pace. Even if I knew what to write, could I with how damp the sheet had gotten? Male, female, both, neither, something beyond-- I couldn't pick apart any of it. I didn't know what it meant to be any of these, I didn't know what it meant to be anything. I wanted to give her an answer, to tell her one last thing, but I shook my head, I shook my head, I shook my head--

I put the pad away and nipped Hornet on the cheek. It was sloppy, my unwieldy mandibles dripping Void, but she made no move to wipe it away. I crooned something that vaguely sounded like 'I love you,' and she laughed, wrapping her arms around my neck. What a sweet, sharp laugh it was. I purred, wrapping myself around her. The rain fell heavier now, drenching us both. First time wearing this cloak, and it was already soaked. I'd have it no other way.

"I love you too."


End file.
